


Come Back

by Aida



Series: 30 Day AU Challenge [13]
Category: The Hobbit - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - World War II, Bending Rules, Fluff, I bent them for the fluff, Implied/Referenced Character Death, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-07-27
Updated: 2013-07-27
Packaged: 2017-12-21 13:09:41
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 763
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/900679
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Aida/pseuds/Aida
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Kíli wants one thing for Christmas.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Come Back

**Author's Note:**

> Basically an excuse for fluff. Some angst, yes, but mostly fluff. 
> 
> Because I NEEDED IT!!!

“Kíli, what are you doing out here?”

Said young man ignored his mother, and instead stared out the window as the snow continued to fall. They were at his great-granfather’s old estate, far away from the cities, and Christmas was fast approaching. The snow-covered fields brought back fond memories of playing with his brother, his friends, his uncle, and his father. His father, who had been killed early on in the war. His uncle, who was now serving queen and country and the whole lot. His brother, who was right there with them along with most of his friends. 

One friend in particular was one that Kíli deeply missed.

He tried not to think about how they were out there, somewhere, and he couldn’t be out there himself to watch their backs because he was too young, even if it was by a year and a half. Tried not to wonder if they were alright, or if they’ll soon get word that... he wasn’t. 

Instead, he thought of happier times. Of His smiles and high-pitched giggles. Of how he could make even the most boring topic sound thrilling. Of their first kiss, made sweet by the honey he liked in his tea. Of promises to move to his father’s old home in the French countryside that he had inherited. Not of tears and anger. Not him trying to tell Kíli that nothing could go wrong. He was a medic, after all. Like that meant anything out there.

“Kíli?”

“What is it, mother?” He finally asked, thoughts derailed as he rubbed a hand over his face. 

Dís looked somewhat sympathetic. “You miss them, don’t you?”

“Of course not!” He snapped. “I just… hope that they don’t blow a leg off, or something.”

“Fíli would never be that stupid.” Dís explained, getting a look from her youngest son before she continued. “Well, if anything, your uncle will make sure that he isn’t. And if anything, I’m sure your friend, Will-.”

“-Bilbo.”

“-Is going to take good care of him.” She finished with a smile. “They’ll be fine.”

Kíli bit his lip, wanting to tell her she said the same thing about father. Now he sat in the dirt, never to return. Now he heard his mother cry herself to sleep every night. Now she’s unable to look in certain drawers, certain pictures, certain _rooms_.

“Now is not the time to be thinking of these things. It’s Christmas Eve, and Santa won’t be coming if you’re not in bed.”

He scoffed at his mother, but rose from his seat. “Mother, I know Santa doesn’t exist, despite what Fíli says.”

Dís grinned. “Still,” She retorted. “You won’t get a single present unless you get a good night’s sleep.”

Kíli sighed before stepping up to kiss his mother on the cheek. “Very well. Good night, mother.” He told her, walking around her to go to his room. 

“Good night, sleep tight, and don’t let the bed bugs bite!”

He snorted, waving her off before slipping into his room and shutting the door behind him. Almost immediately after the door was shut, he went to his bed, digging around underneath his mattress. It probably wasn’t the best hiding place, but it wasn’t as if his mother didn’t know. He just wanted it to be clear that he wanted certain things to be kept private.

He swallowed hard when he pulled them out. The letters. He kept the ones from his father, uncle, and brother all in a drawer in his nightstand, but these were different. These were from Bilbo. And they spoke of their love and their desires, hopes and dreams. He clutched them tightly to his chest as he curled into a ball on his bed, feeling his eyes sting.

“Please…” He whispered. “Please bring him back to me. I don’t care if he’s missing limbs or anything. Just bring him back to me alive...”

**xxx**

He got his wish in the morning.

His mother, teary-eyed, had been in on it, but he didn’t care. He didn’t even care that his brother had returned as well, their uncle unable to leave his post for the holidays. Not even that he had a cane, and that his leg was stiff and his face was more worn than it should’ve been.

He tackled him at the door, uncaring that his new cane had clattered to the floor, nor that he had squawked at him to be more careful. 

He didn’t care, because Bilbo came back to him. He came back to him alive.

“Happy Christmas, Kee.”

“It certainly is, Bo.”

**Author's Note:**

> Up next is PIRATES!!!


End file.
